


So It Goes

by weallfalldowneventually



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Feel free to yell at me in the comments, Gotta go breaking my own heart, I wish I could find that damn poem, Lots of Angst, M/M, This was inspired by a poem, also violence, but nothing that wouldn't be depicted in the show, there's blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 10:45:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14616750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weallfalldowneventually/pseuds/weallfalldowneventually
Summary: With that Castiel leans in pressing a feather light kiss to his forehead.





	So It Goes

There's a soft, delicate smile gracing Dean's chapped lips as he leans against Baby, arms crossed while he watches as Castiel and Sam bicker over which new movie they should catch after they finish up their case.

They're working the simplest of jobs right now, a crossroads demon gone rogue, which is why they're planted nearby the next suspected victims house. They've ganked so many demons by this point that it's all but second nature to them now. Every one is both relaxed, yet poised to move on a moment's notice.

That's when Dean sees the man, or demon he should say, approach the house. Which, granted this case is weird in the fact that the demon kills the victims instead of simply sending a hellhound. Dean shrugs the thought away, who's he to complain, guys making his life a hell of a lot easier.

He involuntarily shivers at the thought of having to deal with another hellhound.

He clears his throat, loud enough for Castiel to hear, and he watches as blue eyes trail over to him before quickly flickering to the demon strolling up the houses steps. They're a good few houses down the street, not wanting to make their little makeshift stake out _too_ obvious, so they begin to make their way over. Slow, yet calculated steps bring the three closer, trying desperately to not draw any attention to themselves.

The moment the demon enters the house they all collectively break out into a sprint, Dean blaming his old age, _and not the lack of exercise he gets_ , for allowing him to be the last one up the steps and through the door. The shrill scream from the woman snaps all their attention upstairs, Castiel is the first up the stairs and the first to barge into the woman's room. Sam and Dean trailing in, not very far behind,  both watch as Castiel makes a move for the Demon, blade raised elegantly over his head.

The next seconds pass by in slow motion, as they watch the way Castiel is unceremoniously tackled to the ground, vicious claw marks dragging their way down his chest and stomach, teeth marks biting out chunks of flesh, all of which pull a pained cry from his blood soaked throat. Sam makes his move then, uprooted from his spot on the ground as he lunges for the invisible beast. His blade connects as a whine permits through the blood drenched room. Before either brother can notice, or even care, the demon has vanished. Leaving behind a terrified girl and a bleeding and broken Castiel.

Stupid, they're so fucking stupid.

_He's so fucking stupid._

Just because the Demon doesn't use a hellhound to collect, it doesn't mean he doesn't take one with him.

Dean stumbles his way over, eyes blurred with tears, as he crumbles to his knees. He watches as Sam fumbles to stop the bleeding, watches as his brother can't decide where to _even_  place his shaking hands.

His own hands tremble as he takes in the sight before him.

There's blood every where.

Blood pooling underneath him. Blood still spilling from various gashes along his body.

_Blood splattered on his throat, and on his too pale face, blood next to his lifeless, unseeing eyes-_

Dean wakes to an anguished scream rolling off his tongue and passed his dry lips. Warm tears sting his green eyes and cling desperately to his long lashes. He sits up, his breathing harsh and uneven as he tries to regain some composure. A warm hand finds its way to his bare bicep, nimble fingers softly grasping the flesh beneath them. The body beside him props itself up on it's elbow, the comforting hand moving slowly up to his shoulder.

"Dean," comes a gravelly voice, thick with sleep and Dean trembles, a sob working it's way up his treacherous throat, "Hey, sh, it's alright. It was just a nightmare." Castiel is quick to try and soothe him further, "Lie down love, come on, you can do it. Every thing is fine, every one is safe. Sam is asleep in his room, and I'm here beside you."

He listens, and readjusts himself in bed to lie on his side, facing the man he loves. He has tears still begging to fall, but he's to stubborn to let them. He feels that same warm hand that was on his shoulder now resting gently against his face. It caresses his cheek, fingers scratching softly over the stubble that has made it's home there. The beautiful smile he adores so tremendously is blurred by his own tears.

"It's okay, really, it was just a nightmare, please don't fret." It's whispered so sweetly to him, voice coaxing him into a false sense of security.

A single tear makes its desperate escape, sliding down the bridge of his nose and falling ever so gently onto his pillow. More tears begin to make their escape, all plummeting to their deaths against the soft pillow below. He gives a wet laugh, one filled with pain and heartbreak, "You know, for a moment I thought you were real, Cas."

Castiel's honey sweet smile turns devastatingly sad, his blue eyes shinning with a thin veil of unshed tears of their own. "I love you," he whispers into the crisp early morning hours.

They're whispered so sweetly into the quiet that surrounds them that it leaves the words no choice but to echo in Dean's breaking heart.

Dean leans more into the now phantom light touch, "You're not real," he whispers, placing a soft, almost non-existent kiss onto the now disappearing hand. His tears grow hotter in his eyes, until they feel like fire, a bittersweet smile gracing his lips. "I'm still dreaming," he speaks quietly, voice shaky and vulnerable. "I don't want to wake up, Cas, not when you're not there to wake up next to." He pleads, voice broken, pain weaved into each word, sorrow dripping off his tongue.

With that Castiel leans in pressing a feather light kiss to his forehead.

Dean wakes to a pillow drenched in tears and sweat, arm grasping for something, _some one,_  that isn't there.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading!
> 
> If not, yikes, sorry
> 
> come say hi!  
> my tumblr is ohitsavibealright


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